Junkie(17)

“I’m not a racer.” I disagreed.

Jack half smiled. “Maybe not, but you hang with one.”

The image of Drew grinning at me from behind the wheel of his Fastback sort of commandeered my thoughts. I didn’t somehow have time for racing with Drew.

I made time.

“Anyway, all I’m saying is pushing the house in one direction or another might be a good thing. It might give you a better feel for how the house will be once you’re no longer in charge.”

He had a point. A good one. Throwing my support behind one of the candidates would give me a different perspective on how that man would be in a position of power and also how the house would respond toward following him.

“You’re hoping I support you,” I said, blunt.

“Of course,” Jack said. “I think I’ve made it clear I want the presidency.”

“What if I support Con and not you?”

Jack shrugged. “I hope you don’t. But if you do, I’ll respect it because I know you’re going to do what you think is best for this house.”

He looked in my eyes, holding himself with pride.

I believed him.

I pondered his words a little more as I socialized with some of my brothers and drank a beer. I also watched Jack and Con with the other guys in the house. You could tell a lot about a man by the way he treated the other people around him.

Especially when there was alcohol involved.

Sometimes it brought out the truth in ways nothing else could.

I was only halfway into my first beer when one of the guys motioned for me over near the entryway. The music was loud, so when I made it to his side, he just pointed to the front door.

Great. It was probably freaking campus security responding to a noise complaint.

I pulled open the door enough to stick my head out, making sure to keep my cup out of sight, expecting to see grim-faced men in uniform.

There was only one man.

And there wasn’t a single thing about his face I would ever consider grim.

“Drew?” I said, surprised.

He was dressed in a pair of destructed faded jeans and a slim-fit black hoodie with a grey design all across the left shoulder and into the chest area. It almost looked like his shirt had a badass tattoo.

His hair was actually styled into a messier version of Jack’s, and the dimple in his cheek was on full display.

“What’s up, frat boy?” he greeted me, his smile doubling.

I hated when he called me that. He knew it and that’s why he was smiling so hard.

I slipped out the door onto the front porch. Out here the music was a lot more muffled, thankfully. At least now I wouldn’t have to worry about a noise violation.

“Thanks for that,” I cracked. “If you hadn’t just opened your mouth and said something stupid, I wouldn’t have known it was you.” I reached out toward his styled hair and made a sound. “Dayy-uum, is that gel? Hairspray? You’re looking awful purty tonight.”

“Eat me.” He knocked my hand away.

I bet you’d taste good.

I practically choked on the thought. What the fuck? I glanced down at the beer like maybe it was somehow responsible for my random and disturbing thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I interrupt some sacred frat thing?” He answered my question with his own.

“No,” I replied, frowning a little. The way he said that almost seemed like he was mad. “Why?”

“Because we’re standing outside.” He glanced around. “And because the first time I knocked, the dude who answered wouldn’t let me in. Slammed the door in my face.”

I grunted. “Its brothers’ night. Exclusive party for Omega members only.”

Drew nodded and stuck his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie. “I’m headed out of town tonight. Thought I’d… ah, stop in and say bye.”

I felt like I’d just taken a hit on the field and it was the moment after when I lay there stunned, waiting for my lungs to relax so I could draw in a breath. “You’re leaving?” I said, making myself talk before I was totally ready. As a result, the words were a little rushed and strained.

I had no idea he was thinking of leaving. He never so much as mentioned the possibility of going anywhere. This weird sense of loneliness filled my chest. It was a feeling I didn’t like.

“Just for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night.”

And just like that, my body was my own again. I was no longer seized by these feelings I didn’t want to acknowledge or didn’t understand.

“I have a meeting with Ron Gamble.” Drew went on, excitement sparking his blue eyes.

“No shit!” I exclaimed and lurched forward, the beer in my cup sloshing over the rim and making a splattering sound on the concrete. “Why didn’t you tell me?”